Histrionic
by flecksofpoppy
Summary: Reno and Rude decide to entertain Rufus. Former working title: RUFUS HAS TEH DEPRESHUNZ. Rufus crept up in here way more than I first planned. Reno/Rude; a touch of Reno/Rufus. NC-17. Please see A/N for important info about how this fic came to be.


New Reno/Rude fic, with a little Rufus thrown in for seasoning! (Okay, a lot more Rufus. Rufus just totally dominated this recipe.) NC-17. This fic came about for two reasons, one being that I accepted a pairing request fic challenge long ago from alifestylechoice to write a Reno/Rude fic. Mostly however, it all started when someone on the LJ comm renorude posted a fic search request. To whom this idea belongs, I have no clue. But I just couldn't get this visual out of my head and I found myself checking back every day to see if anyone answered with the location of this mysterious fic. Bottom line: In no way do I claim credit for the premise of this fic. I have no desire to rip someone else's idea off and then say it's my own. I wrote this solely because I WANT THIS FIC TO EXIST SOMEWHERE. And then I liked the way my version came out. So here it is.

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**Histrionic**

Rufus hated plays; he generally disliked any type of theatrical display. Shinra was already enough of a soap opera to entertain even the most discerning reader of romance novels and cheap pulp fiction. But he ended up at a lot of performances.

He only ever used the company's private box for two reasons: it was the only place he felt he could think clearly alone and reflect, and because he liked to watch. Not the play, but the people; the coughing, the ushers, the intermission, the strange surreptitious looks people gave each other. He shared nary a word about any of his observations; maybe only a subtle, humorless smile, that anyone who knew him would describe as "calculating."

This production had been on the stage for a long time. Long enough that it spanned generations of both people and of plate-building technology. The dialogue had even been updated for modern audiences.

He had attended so many performances that anyone paying attention would have concluded that the heir apparent to the Shinra empire could be counted upon as a major patron of the arts in Midgar. What no one knew was that, in addition to the fact that Rufus only liked the locale for the darkened silence, his mother had once been on this stage - _Loveless_.

She was one of Don Corneo's girls when his father met her. Long ago, when the general public still cared or remembered, and his father was young, a simple story that had been concocted about his mother's career as an "accomplished, underappreciated thespian." It was quite an elaborate guise to cover the identity of a whore-cum-socialite. It made Rufus wonder if his father had ever been in love - it seemed so, given past events. He understood "love" as a commoner's game, an entrance point to some idealized singular version of pleasure (although he could appreciate the middle-class practicality if it ended in marriage). It was also dangerous.

For whom it was dangerous was left up to fate to determine, but when his mother's corpse ended up at the bottom of a mako reactor (he knew the story-the cautionary tale had been told to him from childhood), Rufus figured that she had gotten the rotten end of the deal. Even being the bearer of an heir didn't exempt you from the company's wrath after a blackmail attempt.

Rufus didn't spite his mother for her betrayal; he despised her for her shortsightedness. He just hoped she hadn't passed it onto him.

The chronicle of the Shinra family was a little understood but much discussed subject, particularly amongst employees who were close enough to feel that they were privy to extra information, but far away enough that they still talked about it. The few people who actually knew anything about the "Shinra family saga" were either feared by others, or feared the other people who knew what they did. The Turks were one of these groups; needless to say, they did not fall into the latter category.

He looked up at the subject of his thoughts, his two bodyguards for the evening-now _there_ was a marriage of practicality. Reno and Rude's relationship defied categorization to anyone that knew them (few people did know them; the only ones that had a glimpse were dead within seconds after by gunshot or electrocution, unless you worked with them). They were always together, and gave no hint of anything unresolved, anything lingering-just the same old shtick, although Rufus imagined that it was hard to get bored of Reno. He was somewhat unpredictable-a good Turk, to be sure-but batshit crazy. Rude just absorbed it like a lead jacket absorbing radiation.

Those two had been around for a long time. Although in his earlier years, it was Rude and Tseng that had been present. When Rufus's mother had her tragic accident in Costa del Sol vacationing with her beloved husband, Rufus had been in his early teens. He occasionally wondered which one of them had done it-Tseng or Rude, although it could have been Verdot given the high profile of who was getting offed-but for some reason his gut had always told him Rude. Rude would carry out an assignment accurately down the smallest, innocuous detail. Knowing his ineffectual idiot of a father though, Rufus was confident that her death had been quick and to the point. She was lucky that it was his father who ordered the hit; Rufus was ever so much more creative. He would've made a good Turk if he hadn't been born into the Shinra family.

He shifted and tilted his head; Reno picked up on his movement. The voice came immediately; he must have been bored too, although Rufus doubted that he knew the dialogue.

"Looks like the boss needs some entertainment," Reno said under his breath. He closed the curtain behind them; it shut with a whoosh, but they were high up enough that no one noticed the noise.

He turned his gaze to Rufus, a jackal's grin plastered across his face.

"Whaddya think boss? You wanna watch something else besides this prissy shit?"

Rufus nodded, crossing his legs nonchalantly and meeting Reno's eyes with an evaluative look. He was tired of thinking for once.

Reno turned back to Rude, who, during the entire exchange, hadn't moved an inch or even acknowledged that he had heard them at all.

"Rude, you gonna to help me out here or what?" Reno said, one questioning hand raised and the other shrugging off a sleeve of his jacket.

Rufus could see an eyebrow raise even behind the sunglasses in an answering look that clearly said, _Let me think about this_. It took him exactly 30 seconds to process, digest and ponder the proposition and its possible repercussions. But like Reno, Rude also more frequently than not just said _fuck it_.

Rude took one step forward, took off his sunglasses and placed them carefully in a pocket inside his jacket, then seized Reno's shoulders with a forceful but precise grip and smoothly forced his jacket down and onto the floor. Reno grinned and bared his teeth.

Rufus could feel his pulse quicken, particularly when he saw Reno's neck tense and Rude's hands lying still on his shoulders, somehow ominous yet still promising only good things; but there was always that hint of potential violence. It was like kinetic energy that Rufus felt _he_ controlled in some way; he saw promises of loyalty to the end in those hands. In all of their hands: Reno, Tseng, Rude.

All that, and of course, Rufus had always thought that Reno was a hot piece of ass. Unlike his father though, he didn't mix business and pleasure.__

Well, he thought, watching Reno drop to his knees in front of Rude and start fiddling with the zipper of his pants, _at least not directly_.

He turned completely around now, fists planted on each armrest as he watched the two Turks in front of him. The actors on the stage were background noise; he had heard the lines a thousand times before, but now they seemed increasingly distant_._

But Lucrezia, how could you leave me?

Pants down, crumpled on the floor, Reno still clothed and grabbing Rude's thigh with unexpected strength as he took his cock in his mouth.__

Soon-the end of it all. You'll see.

Rude grabbing Reno's head, hands twisted in the messy red hair like a game of tug and war that he was winning. Bite on the inner thigh-more bared teeth-Rude this time, though. A pinch somewhere in retaliation and a hand reaching back around to more dangerous places.__

I don't care. All I want is you... soothsayers see only what is meant to be.

Reno's hand somewhere that Rude doesn't approve of and he draws away. Reno looks disappointed, but anticipatory.__

Not our desires.

And the strength is there. Grabs Reno, puts a hand between his legs. They kiss, hurriedly, hotly, absentmindedly, and Rufus feels strange.

Heart...there is his heart; Rufus clutches his chest.__

When the lights hit the frost on the plate, they look like stars.

Rufus knew what stars looked like and he didn't care for them. That universe was too large to be controlled or understood.__

I'll come for you soon.

At his mother's funeral, Rude had been there.__

Please just go. For now.

Rufus's hand on his own cock. There on the floor, Reno on hands and knees, waiting, ready. Teeth.__

My condolences.

And then the thrust and that expression on Reno's face; Rude working at another's body to bring violence, pleasure. The best kind.

On lap, legs open and _yes, Reno did in fact have a nice cock_, Rude's hips pistoning into Reno as he sweats. And even Rufus has to admit he had never seen Rude like this, mouth open and eyes rolling back as he seems to look at nothing.

Rufus: flooded and hot and hard and violated. He revels.__

Soon this will end.

Reno disengages-growl of surprise-

"Hey boss," hoarse, gravelly voice. He doesn't need to say anything else, and Rufus feels Rude's eyes weighing on him. Loyal, but hands motionless.

"Reno, don't be insubordinate."

Hot pressure on his cock, _yes, hot piece of ass_...Rude's look, now burning, heavy.__

My condolences, Rufus says in his mind.


End file.
